


I took a little risk

by columbine_and_asphodel (onlycrooks)



Series: The Innocent Bystander [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:26:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlycrooks/pseuds/columbine_and_asphodel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's lost to them, and they're lost without him. Or, Steve and the taskforce receive a case and can't solve it without Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I took a little risk

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I had planned on writing a single, angsty one-shot, but the people spoke, asking that I continue it. Now I've managed to create yet another extended storyline.
> 
> I may or may not have waxed a bit too poetic. (I did.)

He finds the note the next day, sitting on his desk with something akin to accusation in the black marks on its bright white surface. More pressing, however, is the badge sitting atop one of the paper's corners. The contrast between the fragile paper and the heavy badge is striking. He's never been a person to appreciate aesthetics, though, and to his layman's eyes, all there is to the scene is betrayal.

If he were to push deeper, he'd find the feeling that he is to blame, but he refuses to look that deep in the dark cavity of his chest.

His hands are steady as he picks up the note, and they don't shake when he crumples it, his indignant anger seeping through his body. It makes him go cold, frigid like the hypothermia-indusing waters in which the SEALs had insisted he train, a rage that fills his veins and renders his extremities insensate.

When he finally begins to push the numbing cold down, he finds himself ablaze.

* * *

It takes two weeks and the death of the son of a rich political lobbyist in what initially appears to be a drug deal gone wrong for Hawaii's law enforcers to realize they've lost someone important.

Twelve hours after they're first called in, neither Five-0 nor HPD has found any leads, and it's beginning to tear them apart.

From his place behind his desk, he can see Chin and Kono talking to each other quietly in the bullpen, combing through Max's report, witness statements, checking for possible cameras, anything that might help them. He'd been in there with them until a few minutes ago when they'd told him, as nicely as possible, to piss off and stop distracting them. Now, though, as they wait for the list of people who'd made threats against the lobbyist and his family, he can see why they'd sent him away. He can't truly read lips, insomuch as no one can with one hundred percent accuracy, but there's one word they've been repeating:

 _Danny_.

He knows that they miss their detective from the mainland, that they know the absence of malasadas in the morning and rapid gesticulations has something to do with him, but they haven't said anything or asked any questions, for which he's grateful, because he doesn't know what he'd tell them.

All he really does know is that Danny's gone and the case is dying, going cold before their very eyes, regardless of what the cousins do or the people Cath convinces to share information. They aren't going to find the bastard who killed that boy, and it's his fault because Danny's gone- Danny, who's worked more cases where homicides and drug deals mix than any of them but who won't be helping because he isn't here.

His door swings open, disturbing his train of thought. When he looks up, Chin is standing in the doorway, looking grim.

"HPD's reinforcements have arrived."

* * *

"No, absolutely not."

"Steve-"

"I said no!" he shouts, causing everyone in the bullpen to look at them, but he isn't concerned with HPD or anyone other than Cath and himself. "We just have to keep looking. We'll find a lead and catch the son of a bitch who did this- _without_ the help of civilians."

"He isn't just a civilian, though, Steve; he's a former detective, a detective whose specialty was the type of case we've got right now!"

They regard each other for a moment. It's their first true argument as a couple, and he isn't sure how to process it. He just stands in front of her, watching the way her entire body moves with the force of her breathing, and shakes his head until she eventually gives up and walks away.

It's their first argument, and he's just lost it.

When the silence around him isn't broken, he looks up and sees twenty startled faces looking back.

"Why are you all looking at me? There's something in here that we're missing, something that'll lead us to the killer, and we're going to find it."

* * *

They don't find anything, and when Carl is buried a month later, his murderer still at large, it is with a heavy head and heavier heart that he accepts Mr. Powers' mute and Mrs. Powers' trembling rage.

He arrives home later than he'd anticipated and wants nothing more than to collapse on the bed next to Cath, wrap himself around her and spend a few hours remembering how to be warm. So preoccupied with his thoughts of comfort is he, that he almost doesn't see the note taped to the door or the bag just below it.

Suspicious, he removes it carefully and opens it, his eyes taking in the loops and flourishes of the handwriting he doesn't recognize.

_I'm returning these for a friend, since he's got no use for them now._

He closes his eyes as he slowly sinks down against the door, ignoring the way his head protests hitting the solid surface behind him. The door is solid and unmoving, which is all he needs: something that will remain the same.

The quivering of his fingers pulls him back into reality, encumbering him as he slowly drags the black plastic bag onto his lap and opens it. He shouldn't be surprised by what he finds, but finding himself looking down at the contents of the bag still throws him, still makes his gut go cold and his muscles tense. He knows without checking to whom they belong.

The bottom layer is a dark blue officer's uniform, ironed and folded meticulously before it was put in the bag. Its dark color is rich and new, showing no wear or signs of misuse. The owner of such a garment- who would have to be Danny- would have to have cared deeply for it to have kept it in such excellent condition. That he will do so no longer screams of a great injustice, but the mournful protestations are muffled by the weight of the rest of the bag's contents.

Directly atop the well-tended uniform is a TAC vest. It, too, is clean, but he can tell that it's old, too old to have been issued during Danny's time in Hawaii. As he runs his fingers over it, he feels a depression in the front, in the center of which is a small line where the fabric has been ripped, then repaired. Further investigation proves his initial theory that it's a rudimentary pocket. Inside is a single, folded, piece of paper. Written in Danny's most careful script, the one he usually saves for the notes he occasionally slips into Grace's lunch bag, are a few words:

_If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm any hostility._

There is something incredibly intimate about the note, and he wants to study it, learn why Danny would have something like that in his vest; his attention, however, is soon pulled to the topmost item and the way it flashes in the fading light. There is a threat in the metallic gleam, and he knows that the weapon in his hands has found fault with him.

He doesn't know how long he sits just outside the house, his head resting on the door, but he knows that when he comes to, night has fallen and he's cold.

Sleep refuses to grace him with its presence, so he lies in bed, arms wrapped around his wife, and thinks about the words Danny had so mindfully written, then hidden in an old, damaged vest.

**Author's Note:**

> Danny's TAC vest quotation comes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
> 
> Again, improved by WaitingForJudgement's lovely beta work!


End file.
